


day after day

by Anonymous



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Era, Companion Piece, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-14 06:13:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14129820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A day in the life of a few newsboys and their relationshipsStory #1: SpraceStory #2: Blush





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Each story can be read as stand-alone, but info from the first part helps with the second chapter ye

It had been his own fault really.

He was shoving through the busy streets, not paying much mind to his surroundings, and just like that the upper arm of his sleeve was caught. In a moment of impulse, Race tugged, swearing when the jagged metal cut through his sleeve and the surface of his skin. 

Small red drops formed on Race’s arm, his hand covering the wound as it began to sting. With a quick glance around, Race hoped no one had seen and he set back for Manhattan, still holding onto the injury. He had wanted to get a few bets in, but with a torn shirt and an open cut, there were more pressing matters. 

He had just reached the end of the block when Spot jumped out in front of him and Race frowned. 

“Let me see,” Spot motioned to Race’s arm. 

Stepping back, Race shook his head, searching around for the spy that had ratted him out. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

“Yeah, a scratch with blood.”

Ignoring Race’s protests, Spot tore his hand away, eyeing the cut. “Well, it’s not nothing, but at least I won’t have a dead body on my hands.”

Race pursed his lips at Spot’s joke, if he were to even call it that, and reluctantly let his arm be taken as he was dragged back the way he came. Unlike his usual visits to the lodging house, Race was led into a back room once inside, one he had only guessed was a supply closet. If it weren’t for the rows of desks, the room would be spacious and Race couldn’t help compare it to the classroom back in Manhattan. 

“Take off your things,” Spot waved. “Well, you know.”

Shifting under Spot’s gaze, Race pieced off his upper layers, handing them to the open hand with a wary eye. Setting them to the side, Spot reexamined the cut, then grabbing a small kit from the back of the room. 

A bottle was pulled out first and Spot took out the cork before pouring some clear liquid onto a piece of cloth. Race hissed in pain when Spot pressed the cloth to the cut, his attempt to focus on something else snatched as Spot’s fingers danced on his skin. With a few more dabs, Spot seemed satisfied and he wrapped a bandage around Race’s upper arm.

“Keep an eye on it,” Spot muttered before rooting around in the kit again. 

With the room quiet besides Spot’s movements, Race opened his mouth to break the silence until he saw the thread and needle in Spot’s hand. 

Grabbing one of Race’s tops, Spot set to work, his fingers nimble and quick as he sealed up the rip. 

“Don’t know how you didn’t get blood on these,” Spot commented, glancing up at Race in the midst of his stitching.

“Fast hand,” Race waved his left with a small grin. 

Spot laughed a little at this and Race sat up more, curious as to what Spot was doing. Finished with one top, Spot grabbed the other, setting to work as if it was second nature. 

“Who taught you?” Race blurted out and rubbed the back of his neck when Spot’s movements halted.

“They don’t teach you this in Manhattan?”

Race blinked, shaking his head in a sluggish manner. “I mean, I don’t really attend the classes. It’s all finished up by the time I get back.”

“And they don’t kick you out for that?” Spot grinned, knotting off the thread. 

“Nah. I help with breakfast,” Race teased back. 

When he could, Race would wake up early and set off to the kitchen with Blink and Mush as they made breakfast for those who wanted it. It was one thing he looked forward to in his usual hectic life, not to mention the time spent with the two boys. He reckoned he was as good of a cook as Spot was at sewing, but he made no move to mention that. 

Spot narrowed his eyes, as if hearing Race’s thoughts, and then checked over his work before handing Race back his clothes. 

“We’d make a fine couple then.”

Race paused mid-change and hurried on with the rest of his clothes, refusing to meet Spot’s eyes. Whatever he meant by that, it didn’t help Race’s reddening face. Tugging his cap back on, he hoped to divert from the conversation, clearing his throat as he stood.

“Thanks, Spot. I’ll be more careful from now on.”

Spot’s response didn’t come right away and Race let his gaze drift to him, his stomach flipping at the pointed stare. 

“I’ll know how to patch you up either way.”

Both turned from each other, a palpable tension hanging in the room and Race almost thought to make a joke. Instead, a quick goodbye left him before Race charged away, his heart thrumming in his chest. 

What just happened between him and Spot sent a shiver down Race’s spine. Attempt after attempt, he tried to think of something else but all he could see was Spot’s eyes, the touch of his calloused hand. 

Without thinking, Race looked over his shoulder at the Brooklyn house, his breath catching in his throat. 

Leaning against the doorway, Spot gave Race a small wave and within his frazzled mind, Race managed to give on in return. The half-smile that blossomed on Spot’s face then sent a jolt through Race’s body, his realizations hitting him like blows to the chest. 

He and Spot could truly be something great and Race’s fingers ran over the mended fabric as he reminded himself that Spot had fixed it just for him.


	2. Chapter 2

The room was dark when Mush woke and he sighed, running a hand down his face. His body had finally made the proper adjustments, but he missed sleeping in until the sun rose. 

Hopping down from his bunk, Mush dressed himself for the day, hardly glancing up when he heard another boy rise from his bed. 

“These mornings,” Blink grumbled as he brushed past Mush on the way to the sinks. 

Splashing his face with water, Blink rested his forehead on the wooden ledge before him and Mush let out a quiet laugh, joining his side. 

“At least it’s just us, right?” he nudged Blink and Blink gave him a contemplative glance as they finished getting ready. 

Tiptoeing out of the room, Mush and Blink headed downstairs, a few lights aglow as they entered the kitchen. Blink set to lighting the stove as Mush started on mixing the ingredients for the bread, their cooking and baking as much in their blood as selling papers. 

Coming over to Mush’s workspace, Blink pressed into Mush’s side, placing a small kiss on Mush’s neck.

“Blink,” Mush laughed, his shoulder moving up as Blink rested his chin on it. “You’re supposed to be helping me, you know.”

“It’s more fun watching you,” Blink sighed, burying his face in Mush’s shoulder before moving to Mush’s other side.

His hand trailed along Mush’s back, the other reaching out for the dough Mush was kneading and their hands become a tangled mess. Mush was amazed they ever had breakfast done in time, the two of them glancing up as another person entered the room.

“All right, lovebirds,” Race shook his head as he grabbed the spare apron. “Breakfast, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Blink threw a dishrag at him and the room broke into small laughter as the preparations truly began. 

With a mediator, the food was made in record time and Mush had just started placing bread on the tables when the first of the newsies filtered in. From there, it was a race to beat the rest of them and the three boys were a mess by the time everything had been set in place. 

Once other newsies had offered to clean the kitchen, Blink, Mush, and Race finally took their seats, digging into the meal that they had made. As always, Race complimented Mush on his bread and Blink’s own gratitude was shown through hands laced under the table. 

Maybe someday, with their own place, he and Blink would be able to take their time, savor the morning beyond these few precious moments. In the meantime, Mush was going to take was he could get and he rested his head on Blink’s shoulder, his heart as happy and content as could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls send me blush inspo, i Need to write more for our boys
> 
> [Chumblr](http://safarikalamari.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> hey did u know they taught newsies how to cook and sew at the Brooklyn lodging house
> 
> also yes, newsies could have breakfast at the lodging house despite what the musical/movie shows us
> 
> [(Source)](http://nineduane.queenitsy.com/)
> 
> Find me on [Wumblr](http://safarikalamari.tumblr.com)!!


End file.
